


Red Prince Eternal

by Crypterion_Moon



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anti-Hero, Betrayal, Creepy, Dark, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, Loses Humanity, Loss of Trust, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rejection, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypterion_Moon/pseuds/Crypterion_Moon
Summary: Heroes always put others above themselves, their duty is to protect and help the vulnerable. Tim is sick and tired of it, tired of being rejected, sick of being told he didn't fit. Once he wanted in, now he wants out forever. Tim's heroes had failed him, now he doesn't believe in heroes. He should thank the Joker.





	1. Veritae Amarum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harsh truths come from the most painful of lessons.

“They’re not coming kid, not for some snotty wannabe like you.”

“That’s not true,” Tim protested, his breath hitched as the Joker pressed the blade closer to his throat. Drops of fear ran down the boy's spine, if the madman added any more pressure it will cut right through his thin, fragile skin.

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all, ‘Batman will save me, he’s a hero, that’s what heroes do,” the Joker said in a falsetto voice imitating a child before his smile turned into a wide frown on his pasty face, “You kids all think the same damn thing, but you know Bats ain’t got time for you little lowlifes.”

Come on Bruce, I know you and I haven’t been on the best of terms but you always do the right thing, you wouldn’t let anyone die if you could help it, Tim thought struggling in his bonds, the ropes were beginning to cut into his arms painfully.  
Joker’s face widened into that unsettling toothy grin, the one that showed off all his teeth.

“Ah poor thing, you know, if Bats ain’t nice, you always have Uncle Joker. You’re a smart kid, why not learn from me?”

“I’ll never be a criminal, not like you!”

“Ah, but you will. The adults, they don’t care about the kids, you know, not the ones down in the bottom. Nightwing and Hood, even Robin, they were all special little stars. That’s why Bats scooped them up like it was coming out of fashion. But you? You’re just some rich wiz with too much time on his hands. They probably think you’re spoiled too.”

“That’s not true,” Tim said weakly. He was fighting the tears threatening to flow. Never show emotion, never look weak and scared in front of the Joker, that’s what he learned... by himself, alone.  
The Joker already saw a fraction of the doubt leaking through, and he was smiling like the maniac he is. Shit.

“Now, big bird, middle bird are all adults too, they can see you being a little snot-nosed brat, but me?” Joker pulled the blade away and twirled the thing gesturing to himself, “I’m no monster, I just see things differently, I got a clearer, better picture of the world.”

He turned the blade back to Tim’s throat again, "It's screwed, so why not burn it down." Tim was scared, so scared, no sign of the Bats arriving, he can see the monitors from his chair, no one was rushing through the Joker’s men to the rescue. Of course, the maniac noticed and let out an unsettling chuckle.

“Oh right, about that, probably too busy right now, I gave them a little toy to play with while you and I have a chat. It’ll be a while before they find out it’s a dud, but oh it’s going to be fun.”

Tim couldn’t stop himself now, he was crying, biting his lip. He may have no control over the tears but he wasn’t going to start sobbing like a baby, “Just kill me if you’re done, there's nothing you can get from me.”

Joker pondered the idea for a bit, holding his pointed chin in deep thought like a philosopher on the meaning of the universe, then his grin returned.

“I like you kid, you’ve got guts,” to Tim’s surprise, the knife cut right through the ropes, freeing him. He nursed his burned wrists for a bit, “ When ya don’t have a knife in it!”

Searing pain bloomed in his abdomen as the Joker drove the blade into it. He fell forwards on to his knees, then on his side, clutching the wound, blade still jutting out from it. He could hear the Joker laughing manically in the background of the ringing in his ears. The shock from it dulled and dizzied his senses as he fought to keep conscious.  
“Keep the knife kid, it’ll be one hell of a souvenir,” Joker turned to leave, having had his fun, just stopping at the door before turning back, “Oh right, phone, you’ll need it. If you can get yourself out of this spot, eh? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

He was gone, the laughter fading into the distance. With blurry vision, Tim managed to look around, spotting the said phone on the table. He raised himself up as much as he could and dragged himself over to the desk. Keep your eyes open, don’t take out the blade or you leak toxic bacteria into your system, forget the pain, just keep going, Tim recited in his mind. Lessons he taught himself, things he learned by watching.  
He somehow managed to crawl all the way to the table and pull himself up enough to grab the phone. Unfortunately, he lost grip and ended up plummeting to the ground, sinking the blade a little further in. Tim screamed. For a moment, the intense pain was enough to wake him up, buying him time to make the phone call.

“Hello 911, what is your emergency.”

“Please, I’m dying, Joker is gone but, aaahhh!” Tim wheezed.

“Please say that again.”

“Help me, they won’t.” The Bats weren’t coming.

Tim fell silent expect for the laboured breaths, he’d rolled onto his side, the phone just by his face. He was losing consciousness. Losing too much blood.

“Sir, tell me where you are and what happened.”

“Abandoned security building...the Bowery...near Crime Alley, building 7...Joker stabbed me. I’m going to bleed out soon.”

His voice was beginning quieten, his consciousness starting to drift as the warmth gave way to a cold numbness.

“Sir, stay awake, we’ll send help but you need to stay awake, what’s your name?”

“Tim...Tim Drake.”

“Ok Tim, how old are you?”

“Eleven.”

Tim could hear her curse away from the phone.

“Okay, Tim you still with me.”

“I’m cold.”

“They’ll be there soon, I promise, just hold on a little longer.”

The officers came with paramedics, but the Bats, he never saw them watching them wheel Tim into the ambulance.


	2. Despicientiae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One may continue to exist without love. The shadow will manifest

Damian was standing outside in the dark. Tim knew, hard to ignore that intense staring the magically passed through walls, or maybe Tim was just that perceptive. He was tired, a whole night of hacking, as fun as it was will do that to him. He doesn't want to talk to anyone let alone the brat but he opened his window anyway.

“What is it Damian, it’s late.”

The ten-year old's eyes normally held contempt for him, the same sort of condescending look that kind would for his subjects. Tim expected him to have nothing else in store for him, rubbing salt into a scar was what the Wayne-al Ghul offspring was good at. Tim has heard it so much they've lost their sting, poison like that won't hurt a corpse. But tonight, the expectant look in them shifted to one of shame with the apology left unsaid but clear in his bright green eyes. Tim would be touched if his cold heart could feel anything now, and Damian knew that. He blamed himself and his family for their neglect, their misjudgment. 

“Nothing, I just came by to make sure you weren’t up to no good,” he said muttering. Tim smiled, aww, the little demon was concerned for him, stubborn brat is stubborn even in the face of his mistakes. Protective in his own way, but he was the only one who know he made them so Tim will spare him the sharpened tongue.

“Get going or Bruce will start getting suspicious.”

“He won’t know where I am,” Damian protested.

Tim scoffed, “Only because I hid your tracks, move along.”

Damian, sensing that there was nothing more he could say to the older boy, turned to leave, just shy of the edge of the circle of light coming from the street lamp, just then stopping and looking back at Tim.

“You’ll come to the manor soon, won’t you,” he asked, suddenly all innocent and childlike even with the uniform and mask that it took Tim by surprise. He had to pause and recover for a moment.

“Maybe, maybe I will.”

It was his way of saying he won’t ever. Not even for Alfred.

The suggestion was there, but Tim didn't want to see any of them, Batman, nor Nightwing or whatever Jason. He’d been thankful that Dick and Jason had stopped coming to his house, he was beginning to tire of hearing them and their empty words, especially Jason who tried to bypass the door, something he'd picked up during his stint as a vigilante/criminal. Tim came up with his own ingenious deterrents, exclusively for snooping vigilantes.  
Oh yes, they’d made it very clear they wanted nothing to do with the ‘wannabe’, they had more important work to do than to even entertain the notion of a budding hero. What? He wants to help, he can start by staying out of the way... How very nice Jason, too bad you can’t take those words back.  
Sorry Tim, but you’re not cut out for this.... Why? Because he wasn’t strong enough? Smart enough? Tortured enough? What Dick, what is it that makes me worthless?  
Get out of the way Drake, you’re enough trouble as it is without having to look after another imbecile, I’m more suited to the role than you ever could be... Because of what? Your heritage? It’s all about that isn’t it? The conversations rushed back like unrelenting tides during times of quiet when Tim had nothing to occupy his mind, they were his waking nightmares of jumbled memories and barbs that he had to fight constantly.

The nightmares, or dreams, or reminders as Tim liked to call them, were incessant. But they did the job. His world different now, one he built for himself, he was a hero no more and he preferred it that way. Damian, the dear brat, ah, Damian. He beat Tim up once when the crazy kid found him once, believed he was a bad egg before he did his homework. It hurt, almost just as much as their distrust and rejection. But having him show up now with nicer things to say was, flattering. Tim’s not sure when Damian realized he might’ve been wrong. And he had somehow grown attached to Tim, suddenly had the bright idea to ask him personally to join them, suddenly springing the question on him. Politely, Tim refused.  
There’s no reason for them to change their mind, Tim certainly won’t.  
So he continued his work. Alone in the big Drake residence, wrapped in comfortable silence and coffee, secrets of all kinds are valuable when you pry them from unsuspecting people. Blackmail is deadly and everyone wants in on it. He can do that. For a price. An unsightly life but it was the reason he’d built for himself, the will to live without relying on anyone, especially not on heroes. If he wasn’t going to be a hero, then why not take advantage of the unsightly demand out there and make a bit on the side. A bit meaning a lot more than his parents could hope to make in a week. From the vengeful victim to the highest ranking criminal bully to a mob leader, he’ll cater to as long as they don’t ask questions.  
One warning, pry too far into his life and he’ll pry back and spill your guts. Pay or you get nothing. Go too far and you can kiss your comfy life goodbye. Tim has eyes everywhere where his little makeshift hero persona had none. No that goody-two-shoes hacker title belonged to oracle now.  
He’d chosen to be ruthless, neutral and perhaps that little boy he once was would’ve been appalled at him now but Tim didn’t care anymore. Not when Bruce, Dick and Jason viewed him as nothing but trouble and no amount of guidance or effort would convince them otherwise. They pissed all over Tim’s whole hearted work, his admiration, his love and desire to do good. It left him vulnerable and death nearly did come for him once. Good old Joker though, he had to thank the bastard. That was a nice wake up call, for Tim and rather late, for them as well.  


They can knock as many times as their hands can bear it but that stays strictly closed. It’s more important to love and protect oneself than waste that on another. He won’t throw his one life to the wolves for others, no more. And heroes always foolishly throw themselves into fire, so Tim will have nothing to do with them. He can apologize to the poor souls caught in Gotham’s life when he burns in hell.

 

He met a Super, Superboy to be exact. To be frank he already knew a whole lot about the half-kryptonian. Kind of difficult not to when this hybrid was tied with two major figures, names like Lex Luthor and Superman attract a lot of attention and with Tim having ears and eyes on the net, it wasn't hard to dig out info. Connor 'Kon el' Kent was a very funny kind of guy, well as funny as it can get when whizzing poor frightened Tim a few hundred feet up in the air where he'd never been so high up before.  
He didn't expect to end up being saved by the budding teen hero, then again, he didn't expect to be caught in some strange hostage situation by some amateur criminals who'd realized they hadn't thought their heist too well through. He had his custom built drones ready to cause chaos on the idiots before Superboy came crashing in and causing said chaos. He did the job though. Not before they'd dragged Tim, because rich men's kids are always prime targets and one of the not so dumb criminals had done his homework. The whole thing came down to them getting pummeled by Superboy and his friends faster than they could say 'I have a gun'. Out of desperation and panic but mostly panic, the guy holding Tim had him thrown right off the building. Which wasn't fair really, he hadn't built drones big enough to help with falling situations. He'd shut his eyes when he felt himself fall into something solid but warm and somewhat soft and comforting.  
Yup, it was Superboy himself. Of course just to show off, he zoomed off higher into the sky with Tim with a stupid grin on his face. They flew around for a while mostly for the young hero's amusement before he finally set Tim down. Tim hadn't imagined how talkative the teen was.  
Too many jokes, too awkwardly charming in his own way. Stupid muscle-head, Tim thought, stupid stupid Tim for getting all flustered in his arms.  
He was willing to forget it except, Kon was not.

“So, uh, that was fun,” Kon said, Tim threw him a look, trying to control his mess of hair.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that, somehow,” he said sarcastically, “I'm pretty sure this happens everyday.” 

“Flying all the time gets old after a while, but you kinda made it funny, guess you've never gone flying before?”

Tim bristled at the reminder of how much screaming he'd done but then shot him a toothy smile, “No one in their sane mind has ever gone flying.”

Kon laughed. It made Tim a bit embarrassed and quite annoyed, but the hero didn't seem to mean any sort of ill, his laughter was genuinely warm and full of enjoyment.

“Man, you're funny, smart kind of funny.”

“It's called wit.”

Kon grinned back at him when his friends, Wondergirl, Impulse and the rest of their team appeared. Wondergirl called to him, rather annoyed and dying to go back to their headquarters complaining that Superboy was holding them all back.

“Hey, what's your name?” he suddenly asked. Tim raised an eyebrow at the question. Why would a hero ask some civilian for their name he'd never see again.

“Tim. Drake.”

“Oh cool!, So it's that big house on the hill-” he said implying that he knew a little about the Drakes.

“Mansion.”

“-Uh yeah, that's yours right, cool, mind if I stop by sometime?”

At this, Tim was stunned and confused. His mind screaming at him, no no no, definitely not while some other part of him said, that's great, this is good. In his internal conflict, he somehow managed to say 'oh, okay'. Much too his logical brain's dismay.

“Awesome, I'll see you soon.”

And with that, Kon was gone, up in the air and off with his team. As Tim contemplated how he'd ended up in his situation, he'd been trying his very best to avoid the hero radar as much as he could, to protect himself but mostly he'd come to find them bland and sickeningly sweet idealists. Indeed they certainly did a lot of good, it's nice to be not in danger of being destroyed by some hostile alien forces for example but after seeing the reality of the world through the lenses, it's become apparent how twisted this world is. Tim had seen all sorts of people out there from the benign to the downright inexplicable, he's no longer surprised, or cares to help. 

Tim imagined somewhere in his mind, that a part of him would have loved to be part of that, to be one of the heroes and fighting alongside them as a team. He'd have made a name for himself, helping in exciting missions doing things he'd always dreamed of and making friends with the people he'd once looked up to. But that was all in the past now, he'd given it up for his life now and he'd made himself as boring as possible. Soon, he was sure, Superboy would leave him alone.

He came, time and time again, hanging out like a pair of normal kids, sometimes, he'd bring the others along. Cassie, Tim had observed, held deep feelings for her reckless team mate. He avoided talking too much about him with her, but otherwise they were actually a great bunch. Impulse, Bart, was restless, a side-effect of his abilities, same as the Flash, he was one of the ones who'd constantly pester Tim because of that. Raven was reserved but caring and she'd remain quiet, up until it was the perfect time for her to speak, bizarrely, it drew Tim deeper into the group bond. Beast boy, secretly crushing on Raven, was just as, if not more so than Kon, full of jokes. They each and all had their wonderful sides. Tim felt so awful in their presence, no doubt, oblivious to what he did in the shadows.  
They were seeing too much of him. He was negative, brooding and sarcastic but that never seemed to deter them. Especially Raven, seemed to see right through his guard, while the rest must have been immune to negativity because he continued to have strange guests over. Not that his parents would care, they were absent for so long and so often.  
Birthdays, holidays and Christmas' were no longer a one man thing for him, disturbingly, he couldn't bring himself to dislike it. Very soon, he couldn't resist the pull anymore, during one battle they were having trouble with, he'd hacked into the network, utilising his skills and shutting down a giant army of robot drones bent on ransacking a whole city. It was a moment of exhilarating achievement, he'd helped the heroes save a city. He continued to help them in secret with their battles, before the cat got out of the bag during one mission when Robin caught on to his activities. Instead of being deterred, most came to rely on his 'MAD WIZ SKILLZ' as Beast boy put it, and soon, it was like he was part of their little team. Cassie was a little more wary due to his secrecy, but said nothing. He tried to push them away, but they persisted, for some reason drawn to him as he found himself drawn to them. Like a moth to a flame, especially to Kon. The half-kryptonian held some strange admiration for Tim and it was began to show as the worked together more and more. The light touches and strong embraces were starting to affect Tim the more time they spent together. This couldn't be happening. Tim realized to his horror, the relationship was deepening beyond his control. No mister, no thank you, this hero business is supposed to be temporary. Tim was drinking double the amount of coffee, more than what is considered healthy or sane with the stress his predicament was causing.

“Hey, where are your parents? I never see them around,” Kon asked one dreaded day. Tim considered the answer for a while before giving it.

“They don’t come home often. Mom and Dad are both busy, you know, with their jobs. Archaeology, there’s a lot of travelling involved.”

“That’s pretty bad, I mean, what about Christmas or your birthdays? Not even for them?”

Tim shook his head, “Not even for them.”

He should be bitter, if it was somebody else, some other child and their mom or dad forgot, they’d be throwing tantrums. But it’s always been this way, so many times even Tim’s forgotten. If it weren’t for some nagging reminders from the various maids and housekeepers they hired, he’d have forgotten about Christmas, Halloween and so on. Sometimes, even they didn’t remind him, so he went on, living each and every day the same way. Routine. He could live with that, it’s what he’s used to.  
Uncharacteristically, Kon gave him the look of a dog put out, and when Tim asked, he only responded by throwing his arms around Tim and giving him the tightest hug anyone had given him for a long time.

“It’s okay, I’ll make sure we celebrate them all with you.”

‘We’ being Kon and the Titans, as it turned out from then onwards. Tim didn’t mind.

Most of the time, he didn’t care, didn’t react. A smile is natural, and can mean a million different things, it’s okay, everything is fine, I don’t really mind, whatever, politely go away, I guess this is nice. But those were his good days. On his bad days, Tim locked himself in. Tried to smother himself in his bedsheets. Curse them as well, they were as close to a hug as he’d get alone. Some twisted part of him wanted a knife, a bullet in his chest. Pain anywhere but inside of him, clawing its way out. He wanted out. Sometimes even the unsightly work he did, couldn’t chase the feeling of neglect away and those days, he’d remember the exact moment ha gave up. Yes, heroes are for idealists, and a kid, a weak one like him would never fit in.  
Those bad days, sometimes Kon would find him, curled up trying to hack his lungs out. Sometimes sobbing, sometimes screaming. What a broken thing. No good.  
But he’d feel the warm touch, the soothing strength gently lifting him and holding him until he stopped shaking. He was so cold compared to Kon. What did the young hero ever see in him? He could only see his broken, jagged edges, designed to cut himself and others. Still, Kon never left and the warmth as well as the odd feeling that progressed beyond fondness spread through him, stepping into dangerous territory. 

 

Something happened, and it was all wrong. Quite frankly, it was putting everyone on edge. Damian did well to locate the drop point the thugs were supposed to be waiting. A whole cargo of arms and heavy weapons for Black Mask. Batman wasn’t surprised, Jason, Red Hood now, had dealings with the criminal spearhead, and they were many. But something was wrong, there were no men, no orders being yelled in fact, it was far too quiet for an operation like this.  
The shipment should be in the warehouse.  
Batman pressed the device close to his ear, absolutely no communication was coming from inside. If the leader was on the phone, it would have been picked up on the frequency catcher. Could the gang have picked up on their presence? If so, there would definitely be more shouting but it was silent.

“Nightwing, Robin, take the back, Hood, make sure no one is leaving the perimeter, no bullets, you hear?”

There was a groan on the comms before Jason answered, “Sure, Bats, whatever you say.”

“I’m going in.”

“Be careful in there, I have a bad feeling about this,” came Dick’s voice, uncertain and betraying the note of fear.

Bruce didn’t answer as he slinked inside through the roof. Not a single light, not a single sound. But as he sneaked further down, closer to the floor, the smell hits him, and hits him hard. Blood, the pungent and overwhelming stench of blood and piss. He hesitates as his hand hovers over the flashlight before turning it on. What greets him is a scene that is familiar on the worst of nights, the stuff of nightmares, enough to make a man lose his lunch if Bruce didn’t discipline himself. It’s not only bloody, it’s a gory mess. The men, or what’s left of them in torn bits and legs, tossed about like broken toys. 

“Dear god,” he whispered.

“Batman? What’s going on?” Nightwing called through the comms.

A blade sharp and resilient enough to slice through bone like butter as evidenced by one poor man’s head, halved like a gourd. Batman moved forward, guts squelching beneath his boots.  
Eyes, hearts, tongues, gouged out, cut and torn, some were thrown against the walls, the crates were splattered with innards while, as Bruce investigated, some were clearly missing. The cargo untouched was left in the vehicles, the doors still ajar. They must have been busy unloading when this all went downhill.  
Bruce’s eyes traced the floor. Not enough footprints, there should be many footprints in the blood, it couldn’t be done by just one person. No, not unless they were up against a new monster.

“They’re all dead, everybody stay alert out there.”

Batman looked up at the lights. All of them were busted, smashed, whoever or whatever this...thing was, they operated in darkness. Mask’s men don’t. But for a brief moment they must have seen the attacker, the flashlight that rolled at his feet now busted and shattered as well was evidence. He looked back down and met the gaze of a man in mid scream. One among many screaming faces right before they died, this wasn’t about seeing their enemy, something scared them witless before it ripped them apart.  
If it was anybody else, they wouldn’t have noticed the three pairs of feet hitting the floor, silent as can be, the boys had trained well but not enough to escape Bruce’s notice.

“Oh my GOD!” Nightwing exclaimed the moment he turned his flashlight on.

“I...haven’t seen this kinda mess since the last slasher movie,” Jason said, his voice managing to not give way to his shock.

Robin on the other hand, had just lost his dinner. He’s used a sword on a living person before but it was all clean cuts and honourable deaths for him, not this horrific mess. Bruce regarded the boy with worry. Maybe he shouldn’t have let him come into the warehouse, and now he’s essentially contaminated a part of the crime scene. He’ll have to take care of that later. Nightwing busily patted and rubbed Damian’s back while the boy was recovering, while Hood and Batman began to search around for clues. Video footage if any was needed, with all the gore littering the floor and the shipment having been left alone, there was little to gleam from the scene. 

“Looks like whoever did this wasn’t interested in guns,” Hood said casually. 

They tried looking for any hidden cameras on the bodies though, nothing. There was a phone still in one man’s hand, slumped by a heavy crate. It looked like he was in the middle of trying to call someone. There was one other thing that might give away what happened in the warehouse. Bruce crossed his metaphorical fingers. He went straight for the operations room, the office where one would keep an eye on all the comings and goings in the office. There was paper and files left carelessly on the shelves and the screens lining the desks were off. He played the footage that was there but after the ten mark, the device was turned off abruptly. He grunted in disappointment, he knew there was a chance the cameras were deactivated to prevent their movements from being recorded, but he’d hoped they weren’t smart enough. As of now, they had a bigger mystery on their hands than Black Mask’s secret smuggling operations and more than likely, once Mask hears about this, he’s going to be pissed. Nothing else here, anything more and the police won’t be happy with the amount of tampering going on. Batman regrouped with the others, outside the warehouse. The street lamp, the only one that wasn’t shot served to highlight all four vigilantes. Nightwing was nervous and so was Robin, Hood’s face was hidden underneath the helmet but his body was tense. For once, the night was not kind, the silence was deafening and oppressive, it reminded him that there were other things, other kinds of fear waiting underneath her.

“Wait, what’s that?” Robin said, pointing into the distance.

All eyes turned to look and for a moment, they could see nothing but the water, the moon reflecting over it. Then movement just at the surface drew their attention, a small shape broke through the surface. Barely visible in the darkness, it stayed floating, almost motionless. Then rose higher, a face still indistinguishable but indeed a face, blue eyes shining brightly and it was staring right at them. Something about those eyes was familiar and yet alien to them and, as Nightwing and Hood began to tremble, it unsettled them all. The moon seemed to shift as the light fell on it gradually. Midnight black hair, blue eyes and a straight nose, young and mature, a young man with knowing blue eyes that once held a child’s admiring light. He dove under the water just as Bruce felt himself reach out for the phantom. Vanishing beneath the ripples. Only now noticing the blood trailing on the ground.


	3. Noctivagum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night holds many surprises, and it may mark the beginning of the end, where a new life shall bloom

It was late but Tim was starting to feel the stuffy room cave in on him. Time to go for a walk. He pulled on his jacket with the keys in his pocket and descended down the insanely long and complicated flight of stairs. The chandelier glaring at him from its spot. It’s all nice and well decorated yes, but what a waste of space., He could have filled the whole hall with his dream equipment. Multiple PC’s, towers of storage and create his own server one that couldn't be accessed by anyone unless he chose to let them in. He’d have his own station for building and developing drones and bots, in a separate room, he’d store parts and scraps. He could work and develop machines and then sell them to the government and secret organizations and he’d do it all without ever being traced, it was a thrilling idea and he really needed to calm down.

“Sir,” the young current maid greeted.

“I’ll be back later, I just need a walk,” he said curtly.  
“Don’t be too long, dinner will be ready soon. Stay safe,” she said, all according to her training and protocols. Tim doesn’t blame her, but he also doesn’t care for her, not as much as the old maid. He missed her dearly.

The night air was cool, signifying the end of the season. Much to his relief, the stuffiness and heat was starting to get to him. Though now, and very soon, he’d have to deal with the freezing temperatures. He lamented his weak body at times like these and having the tolerance of an elderly man with the lack of ability to regulate his temperature was most inconvenient.

He trekked all the way down the hill past the gate to Drake Manor and along the path which led down into the main road, veering off from it through the thick cover of trees. On any normal night, he wouldn’t do something this risky, like leave the house. Anything can happen under the cover of night in a forest. But he made sure to be prepared, in his pocket a sharp folded up knife and above him, following closely, several offense bots he’d programmed to defend him hovered, fitted with a range of razors, sharp metal and a mean streak. They could slice a man’s throat if they got lucky, Tim found that quite thrilling to imagine. He wondered...no. Better not let that thought go wild, he really didn’t want to end up in juvi or a mental institution.  
Tim picked his way through the brush until he finally reached the river, a wide body of water that ran past his home. This was his second favourite place in Gotham, where nothing here reminded him of Gotham. He could walk here alone for hours and not know it. Security around him was lax since his parents didn’t think much about it, ironically after the incident at the bank.  
Oh, bad people they are not, just very, very stupid, airheaded parents, that’s alright, let them live in the old years of their youth, they earn enough for that.

As Tim walked alongside, he savoured the blessed silence, with only the river to fend off wandering thoughts and bad memories, it was enough. This was good. Oddly though, the bank was quiet save for the rushing of water where there would be birds or small mammals nestling about.  
As he kept on his path, he spotted something darker than the darkness around him, A black figure in the moonlight, lying on the grass. Tim slowed, unsure, wary, his eyes trained on whatever the black mass was. An animal? Maybe a pile of clothes washed up ashore? A body? The river swelled a bit and pushed at it, rolling it over to reveal skin paler than anybody Tim has ever seen. He left his hesitance behind as he ran up to the prone body. A young man, no older than a few years than him, his face, for a moment stunned Tim in his startling beauty, handsome in a mysterious way. He wondered who this person was and how he’d gotten into the river. He rolled the young man over onto his back, turning his head to the side in case any water had gotten into his lungs. He was breathing so he wasn’t drowning but the breath was shallow.  
Tim noticed the silver cross dangling from that collar around his neck, the red gem in it glowing faintly. Dark lines or liner under the his eyes, Tim couldn’t tell but he was almost sure he was part of THAT crowd, goths were nice people though, just the right amount of indifference mixed with friendliness. His hand hovered over the cross curiously when the young man’s eyes shot open, immediately he was up and scrambling a few feet back, hissing like a snake, an odd inhuman click that vaguely resembled echolocation used by some mammals reverberated in his throat. His eyes were deep blue like sapphire and as Tim observed, they were glowing slightly with narrowed pupils. Okay, so definitely not human. Tim drew back a bit, keeping a careful distance in case this...person does try to snap him in half. Well, not much Tim could do if he decided to give chase, he’d run Tim over in seconds. But as the stranger took in the sight of the boy, his face softened and he stopped hissing, the eyes returning to somewhat normal as the muscles in his body relaxed. It seemed he wasn’t about to kill Tim.

“You,” he uttered before he rushed forward with blinding speed, grabbing a very surprised Timothy face in his hands, inspecting him very, very closely. 

“Uh yeah, I’m Tim, you looked like you were in trouble so I thought...” he trailed off as those sapphire eyes stared right into his, like he was being read.

“You look cold in that, maybe we should go...inside?”

Tim gently lowered the stranger’s hands from his face. He got up and tried to hoist the other up with him, proving to be more difficult unsurprisingly, for his skinny muscle-deprived arms but the young man got the picture. He stood and intimidatingly over a head taller than Tim, he could only assume that this was because he was still in his pre-teens and had yet to grow, hopefully.

“Come on, my place is near here.”

This is weird, Tim decided. He’d never bring friends or acquaintances much less, strangers into his home, but here he was, leading a strange young creature in black and an animalistic streak with no information on him, into his house and to his room to tend to. The stranger said nothing more, merely watching Tim as he bustled around his bedroom, looking for things to use. A strange knowing look in his eyes was all that Tim could describe his rather vacant expression. It didn’t look like this person had anywhere to go. Raven would light up if she met the new addition to his house.


	4. Amicus

_He was aware that Batman was not the most welcoming of men or heroes but it didn’t make the words any softer in Tim’s mind._

_“Back off, kid, this isn’t a game you can get into and out of.”_

_“I know Bruce,” there’s no one around, no one would hear the whisper of his name but Batman heard it loud and clear and it made him stiffen. Natural, a little boy knows who he is and little boys can say anything._

_“I’ve always known, the lines were there, I just connected them and what evidence I had, I know Dick is with you and so was Jason. I’m only here because I want to help.”_

_“Don’t talk about them.”_

_“What-”_

_Suddenly Batman lost it, and he sent the table flying, “Don’t talk like you know, Tim, they suffered and still fought like soldiers. They know what it’s like to be stuck in the filth this world can offer, what do you know about that?”_

_“I know, Batman, I’m no street urchin or orphan, but pain is everywhere,” Tim stopped, remembered Jason, “I’m sorry about Robin.”_

_Bruce glared at him for the longest time before he turned, “Don’t ever speak to me again.”_

_Of all the people, he would’ve thought Dick would understand, but even the more cheerful counterpart to Batman was...less than pleased. Especially when Tim showed up on his front door with an apology. Dick spent the next hour denying he was Nightwing._

_“Dick, I’m not dumb. I still remember the day at the carnival,” Tim fished the photo from his jacket, “The day we took this picture together.”_

_It was Tim and Dick years younger on the night Dick’s parents died, their performance sabotaged by Zucco. Dick was holding Tim while their parents stood happily behind them. Tim wearing a big baby faced smile. Seeing his parents’ faces made Dick grimace. Tim quickly put the photo away._

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”_

_It was a bad move to mention the man’s parents, an old scar that he’d opened up unwittingly. Dick held face and his eyes became stern._

_“What do you want, Tim, this is beyond you.”_

_“What I want is to help, Bruce is taking things harder and he’s trying to do it alone. He doesn’t believe me, no one does, I came to you because I hoped-”_

_“No,” Dick said, finality in his tone, “No way in hell.”_

_“But-”_

_The sudden bang as Dick brought his cup down hard on the table made Tim nearly jump right off his chair._

_“No! You have no idea what it’s like. It’s not fun and games, people get hurt if you make a mistake,” you won’t last a week so just stop, forget it.”_

_Dick had enough of the discussion, glancing at the clock. Get out. The unspoken words rang out, striking Tim in his heart. He thought-, he’d hoped, it might work out this time but there was little chance if not even Dick believed in him. Tim nodded and left promptly._

_He may not be able to join their fight in person but at least he could drop important information disguised as someone else. Tim was a computer genius at a young age and he was nothing if not persistent. Informer became a vital addition to their missions, his information drops invaluable. All the while they’d assumed it was a mysterious person who had established himself elsewhere, never Tim._  
_When Jason returned, Tim felt the thread in his network tremble. Red Hood, notorious avenger and unabashed killer of criminals. He was so different from the Robin he’d met one night it was frightening but Tim hoped still that there was a way to redeem the former Robin. So he pulled some strings, dropped notes until they all found out thanks to Oracle and her superior tracing, they managed to trace the trail all the way back to the little ten year old. No, they definitely weren’t pleased, especially when they realized that Tim had taken advantage of a loophole. It was as if, he had a feeling, that they were angry or disturbed that he was far more crafty for a little boy his age should be. True.  
What truly scared Tim though, was that Jason had said nothing while Dick and Bruce lay into him with all the reprimanding, but his body was tense. Wound tighter than a spring and ready to break. A storm was brewing. _

Tim startled awake and realized where he was, back in the present and in his bedroom lit only by the glow of his computer. He sighed and kneaded gently at the knots in his neck and between his eyes. His memories haunted him even in sleep or what little there was of it. He wished he could boast that he’d gotten over those years, the hurt, but it still weighed on his conscious and subconscious. Perhaps, in time, but certainly not for the time being.  
He can hear the rustling behind him as he worked on the latest client, well, victim actually, but they didn’t need to know that. The noise is intentional. Tim knows because Tiamat, as beautiful as he is, is frightening all the same. Too much shadow and of enough human on the outside. He’s used to it by now or else he’d have jumped up a few feet off his chair like the first time he slithered up behind him. It’s been a while since Tim first brought him home but already they fit, it’s..weird though, he’s...

“Happy Birthday,” a soft voice hummed by his ear. A body slithered up behind him. He could almost feel the grin.

“It’s still a few days off,” Tim chuckled.

“Hmm,” Tiamat let out a soft breath, a chuckle, “I wanted to say it first.”

“Congratulations, you got to say it first before all the other goofballs get here.”

Tiamat’s expression dropped a bit, “I won’t be able to when they do.”

He always disappeared when they arrived, slinking off into the shadows in Tim’s room and avoiding them all together. Usually, he’d still be there, watching from the shadows. If Raven was there, he’d be gone completely. He’d rather not, Tim quite enjoyed the feeling of Tiamat’s presence in the room, though the others unaware of his new roommate did not, for some strange reason. Beast Boy would always note a certain uneasiness. Tim would shrug it off. He was certain it would be a bad idea to tell them judging by their reactions alone. They might even end up fighting.  
Tiamat was still recovering from the wounds he’d gotten when Tim found him on the banks of a nearby river, severely weakened and shivering like an injured animal. He brought the stranger back and tended to him as much as he could. He couldn’t eat anything for some reason, nothing Tim brought him helped They were tentative at first, Tim didn’t know how to deal with this strange creature that had literally fallen outside his doorstep and Tiamat, a shadowy figure who looked strangely familiar was shiftier than a cat, he spent a lot of the time staring straight at Tim and didn’t speak, not until he’d seemed to have acquired all he needed to know about the boy. 

“I never told you my Birthday,” Tim remarked, a question disguised as a statement but he knows the answer.

“Our birth dates are similar across worlds, Tim,” not one but many, many more Tim Drake’s out there, this one was his shadowy mirror. Honestly, he’d never imagined meeting another him, less likely imagine himself in a form like this. Tiamat has mostly abandoned his former life.

“Is it strange?...” to call me by your name? Our names. We’re supposed to be the same but we’re so different. Tim doesn’t say it out loud but Tiamat smiles a smile of many answers and more questions. He stops and jerks to look at the window.

“They’re here,” Tiamat hissed, drifting off into smoke. Just as the knocking on his window drew Tim’s attention. He padded over and pushed it open to greet two teenagers and a green bird.

“Hey there, Tim,” Kon said with his lopsided smile, “Can we come in?”

“Sure,” Tim stepped back and allowed them to float closer and climb through, Beast Boy flew in and settled on the carpet as he transformed back into a boy. Without acknowledging his guests further, Tim went over to turn his computer off. Thankfully, nothing unscrupulous was open, but just to be safe. Kon looked around, his ears perking.

“Guess they’re not home again?” he said rather disappointed for Tim.

“Three month trip this time, they won’t be for a good while.”

“That’s no way to live,” Cassie said.

“You’d be surprised how a people can live once they get used to it, so,” Tim sat down casually at his desk, twirling around to face them, “How can I help you?”

Con shifted uneasily from foot to foot as if unsure of how he was going to form his next words. Cass elbowed him rather harshly as Tim waited patiently for the response.

“Well uh, we’ve hung out a lot at your place and the Titans haven’t really thought of going anywhere else, and uh, we found a pretty cool spot recently while we were busting some alien asses last time, that was so cool you should’ve seen- OW!” Kon yelled as Cass elbowed him again, this time a bit harder, “Geez, you’re gonna bruise me. So I was saying, since we found a pretty cool spot I thought all of us could-”

“Oh for goodness sake,” an irritated bratty voice growled as another figure hopped onto the window sill, “Can’t your small half-kryptonian brain at least form one simple request?”

Damian was Robin now, congratulations, and part of the Teen Titans. Something Tim would have dreamed of in another lifetime. From the looks of it, and the silence that still graced Tim, Robin hadn’t disclosed anything about his mentor to the Bats, just as he’d asked. But now, there was awkward tension between them, Tim could guess that somewhere in Damian’s mind, he was still confused as to why Tim wouldn’t want his father and now brothers to know about him. That he was required to treat him as a stranger and whenever they met.  
However, Robin respected his decision and even covered for him whenever Kon or anyone was close to revealing Tim’s role in their lives. Tim owed him an explanation, he really wished he could, but some things are better left unknown. Tim glanced at Robin briefly before turning back to the three amigos.

“So, where is this place we’re going?”

Later, when the whole group had left, settled back in his chair, exhausted mostly by the strain of having to talk more than usual. Normally, he wouldn’t be so exhausted, Tim wouldn’t exert himself so, but having to deal with so many people, with Kon and his endearing idiocy sometimes and have all the patience of a sage pushed Tim a little further than usual. His health hasn't been right, since the fall, and the depression that followed. He’s never been a fittest but he’s sure things would’ve been slightly different if he’d had any reason to train his body. But no, what’s the point, so what if he had a failing defective, body. It wasn’t as if anybody would care. 

“Why do you push yourself for them?” A whispering voice reached around, seemingly to wrap around Tim and comfort him. He nestled in his chair not even caring that the lights had gone out.

“I don't usually, but it's been getting worse,” Tim let his fall back on the headrest, “I don't know, I don't know why I….That's not true, is it?”

A face in the darkness, reflecting his own, Older and beautiful, they both have the same eyes. This dark soul that bound himself to Tim. He could feel his own stained heart whenever he looked at the shadow, like a cancer spreading over him. Maybe that's why he does it. To cling on to the light he found even if he'd convinced himself the opposite. So irritating and yet, the times when Kon made him laugh, when he and Raven formed a powerful pair of sarcasm and dry wit, when he genuinely admired Cyborg's good taste in technology and pizza, those moments were when he felt most human. Not an object useless or otherwise, made to be on display, discarded and pushed away. Moments when Kon held or brushed against him, when his eyes held a certain unnamed emotion for Tim, was when Tim felt more like a person, enough to start loving again.

“You love them don't you?” it wasn’t a question and Tiamat did not wait for an answer, “And him, far more deeply.”

“What? No, no I...he’s a friend too, he-, he was the first person who treated me like another person and not something with a name on it,” the first person to call Tim by name, “But I don’t...there’s nothing between us.”

He was lying to his own reflection, or he might as well been because those eyes were looking straight through him. Into his heart.

“I can’t...”

“Because you are weak, and broken?”

_Thou art weak, a poor broken child_

These words unspoken instead were made real and so very loud in Tim's mind, he was almost certain they were Tiamat's but his lips didn't move. Such sad, sad words that were sung like a tragedy for his poor frail heart.

“I can’t...”

“That you can be thrown away?”

_Easily thrown aside, thy heart’s love_

“Please,” Tim felt himself collapsing without even realizing he was no longer seated, that he’d gotten up only a few seconds later. It was so dark, he couldn’t eve see what he was doing. He felt hands on his face, covering it, his hands, he wanted to cry but they’d dried up long ago.

“I don’t want to go back, I was an idiot, I don’t want to go back to being an idiot, I don’t care what I have to become.”

Hands not his but his likeness, smooth as silk yet cold and solid as marble until they conjured fire from their palms gently slid his own down from his eyes, sapphire eyes glowing in the shadow stared deeply and tenderly into his, capturing his soul as Tiamat spoke, “You have time, when your decision is made, ask me again.”

_Time still remains, when thy decision is made, call upon me once more_


	5. Natalicia

A few days later, Tim was dropped off at the newly opened fair ground not too far away, well far enough. It was, Tim had to admit, kind of the housekeeper to agree to drop him off and promise to come back later to pick him up. He didn’t know her well but she’s tried her best to be more engaging when she learned of his absentee parents. It was nice, she was kind and the only one to treat him like a normal person, sitting together whenever she served dinner, it was a warming feeling to sit at the table and eat with someone for once.

The fair ground had taken up most of the park, a temporary event for the season of thanksgiving for sure, but they’d done a pretty good job. A little too much emphasis on the pumpkins which seemed to be at every corner and surface available, taking up space all over the grounds. But they were nicely carved with various interesting and sometimes funny designs, serving as lamps and nice additions to the trees here, at night the whole thing looked more like a celebration for Halloween. As Tim walked around, scoping out the area, more and more people were already filling out the place. Still, it was pretty cold even with his heavy coat and red scarf. Probably should have invested in a hat, he thought. If he catches a bug after this, he will have a hell of a time with it.  
Tim spotted some stalls preparing some machines for coffee, a much needed beverage, however when he asked, it was unfortunately still too early and the machines wouldn’t run for another half hour or so. A shame.  
He sat on a bench, shivering slightly when a shadow loomed over him.

“Hey Tim, you got here early.”

Tim looked up and smiled at the floating figure,“I make it a habit to be punctual.”

Kon laughed as he descended, walking on solid ground at last, though it made Tim realize how stunted he was still too short for his age and only reaching up to Kon’s chest or at least just under his shoulder.

“How can you wear a t-shirt,THE same shirt in this weather?” Tim asked, crossing his arms over his own chest to retain some of that heat.

“Eh, weather affects me more than Superman but not that much, besides,” Kon winked before suddenly grabbing Tim and pulling him close and right up off the ground, Tim yelping as he was hoisted upward, legs kicking, “I’m a heat machine.”

“Alright put me down,” Tim yelled but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“You heard the man, put him down before we put you in the slammer!” A voice yelled overhead.

Cassie floated down towards them, hands on her hips rather intimidatingly but the smile gave away her amusement. Soon everyone else, Raven, Beast boy, Cyborg, Robin and Starfire herself arrived. Causing quite a commotion around them, after all, this is a band of young superheroes. But, they were here to have fun, so Starfire instructed them all, absolutely no powers or shenanigans with powers unless in actual threats.  
Nightwing and Jason, though at some point part of their team or worked with, weren’t present. A request Tim had made very clearly. The last thing he wanted was to see their faces and he was thankful that they were not informed, especially Damian who was now looking at him curiously.  
Before the group moved on though, suddenly, they seemed to be in deep discussion leaving Tim out of it mostly until they all turned around at once.

“SO, now that we’re here, there’s one thing we need to do before we start,” Starfire said, a wide beautiful smile on her face. This was the first time he'd met with the Tamaranian and he had to admit, almost everything about her was intimidation, her size and presence, and the way she was over the top. But she seemed to be very friendly in person, but the way she said it had Tim raising an eyebrow and bracing for some prank Beast boy probably thought of.

“Ta-dah!” everyone said in unison, presenting Tim with a box. Inside, as he unwrapped the flawlessly folded paper, was a device, small and shaped like a badge with the Teen Titan’s symbol which was literally a very strong ‘T’ and normally, an insignia to identify the member. The difference between their actual communication devices and this one was that it was fashioned to suit Tim’s taste, silver and etched, like an old Victorian pocket watch. It looked like something out of the classics, Sherlock Holmes being his favourite.

“Happy Birthday Tim!”

Tim picked it up, held it in one hand and stared at it in shock, and awe at the careful detail and skill, it would have cost a lot getting someone to make it with such painstaking effort. But here it was, a surprise that truly took him unawares. He realized eventually that they were still looking at him, expecting him to say something, however, he was not trained or prepared for a situation like this, his tongue, for once, was tied.

“I-I’m sorry, I...you, um, I’m sorry, I’ve, just...never gotten anything like this before,” He's at a loss for what to say exactly, it's coming in a bit of a jumbled mess, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say thanks guy, let’s go have a helluva good time!” Cyborg said, fist pumping once, absolutely delighted and excited. Tim smiled, his heart couldn’t feel any of the weight it had for so many years, he was close to crying.

He smiled and said, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

They were all tender nods and smiles and grins, hugs all over and pecks from Starfire, her motherly nature kicking in. Tim placed the present carefully in his satchel as he was led onwards. The night was young.

The fair may be brief and fleeting, once the season was over it would be gone and the park would return to its natural state, but it was certainly not short off attractions to enjoy. The rides themselves were run of the mill copies of bigger versions, the teapot and merry-go-rounds for example. The only difference was their appearance, modified to suit the season’s theme, the teapots now oversized pumpkins with faces on them. By themselves, they were nothing to write home about but watching Beast boy go greener than usual and nearly get sick in the pumpkin pots was somehow more amusing than it should have been, Tim struggled to contain his laugh when he saw the poor shapeshifter’s expression.  
Tim realized his own lack of tolerance when faced with some of the bigger rides, one that swung on great big circles, vertically. Horizontally he could deal with, but seeing the ground close in and then quickly grow farther away in a wide arc was...unsettling, for his stomach. Afterwards, Kon laughed as he held him up by the underarm, suggesting they don’t try that again, Tim, almost as green as Beast boy, nodded in agreement, the warmth radiating from Superboy soothed him back from disorientation.  
The night was filled with some strange and awkward moments melded with the most amusement and enjoyment Tim had gotten in years, and he had to confess, he really did enjoy himself, even to say he’d love to do this more often. When the thoughts of his reality began to seep back into his mind, to haunt him, one of them, would drag him back in and banish those negative feelings.  
Kon had him by the hand, clasped warmly around his cold bony fingers, smiling wide, the dimple in his cheeks deepened.

“No loner Tim tonight, come on, you’re gonna love this.”

Tim felt the shivers run up his spine, like a bolt of electricity had shocked him. His mind began racing with a load of other thoughts, like, do friends really hold each other’s hand like that? He didn’t even realize Kon had let go until a large mug of spiced, hearty soup was pressed up under his nose. 

“Thought you might need some, you must be cold after all that spinning around and being in the wind and all,” Kon said.

Tim accepted the mug gratefully, sipping gently on the steaming stew. It was nice, really nice, like the stews and soups one very kind and generous housekeeper made when Tim was only a little child, when he was caught in one of those bad days or weeks and his parents weren’t there or too busy to care. She would make the heartiest meals just to lift his spirits.

“A good meal is always good for the heart and the mind,” she’d say in her thick Irish accent. When she was there, he never went hungry. And for a while he almost thought she was going to stay for a long time. Silly little Tim, no one stays.  
He had just bought a small gift, a little silver angel pin for her when the new housekeeper came and she never returned. He still has it. It’s lying on the shelf along with all the other gifts he got when he played lone vigilante boy for a while, the doll sits right beside it.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Kon said, suddenly concerned.

Oh dear, Tim was crying and he’d spaced out so much he hadn’t realized it until he felt the drops growing cold on his cheeks.  
He tried to wipe them away on a sleeve, embarrassed now. They wouldn’t stop

“Sorry, I...I was just remembering someone,” he said, “It’s nothing, oh god, I’m not usually like this.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kon was strangely solemn as sat them down on a nearby bench which could only fit them two despite Tim’s drastically smaller frame, they sat angling towards each other and taking up most of the room, “I’m no doctor but I don’t think that’s healthy.”

“Psychologist.”

“Whatever...you want to talk about it? I know you keep a lot in, I don’t know why but you shouldn’t have to around me, I’m a big idiot but I won’t go telling secrets or something,” Kon gently wiped the tears away as he spoke, “I’m here if you need to talk.”

It took Tim a while before he said anything, the offer dug up old fears, his ever present distrust of others when it came to his personal feelings, his history churned up a storm of conflicting emotions. Kon waited patiently, staring at his feet or off into the distance, watching the guys having their fun. He was patient.  
Tim wanted to let it all out, it’s what he’d wanted all along but he’d convinced himself it was an unnecessary risk. He chose to never divulge to protect himself from ever getting hurt again. From ever trusting people to care, the Bats never did and if the very heroes who swore to fight for the people and not for some gain, if they couldn’t do that, to even trust a little kid, without even caring what their actions meant to him, then how could Tim think that anyone else could.  
He was scared. He looked up at Kon who was patiently watching the passing crowds, not looking directly at Tim, giving him space to think. He’s scared but…

“I don’t think I’ve ever been fine, I still remember calling to Mom to help me because I couldn’t reach the shelf, I was thirsty. She got mad at me for bothering her, said she was busy, when I asked Dad, he was busy on the phone and not one word and he said no. I tried to climb the table so I could reach. I almost fell. Just when I almost lost balance, our maid caught me,” Tim laughed, a little pained sound, “She was so mad, said children shouldn’t be playing on tables. When I told her I needed a cup, that I was really thirsty. She got all mushy and made me chocolate instead, I still got the cup and told me to keep it for when I needed it. Mrs Mac was the only person who cared, when I got really bad, she’d pick me up and tell me stories. She was with us for a few years until my parents let her go. She’s probably back in Ireland now.”

Tim curled up, pulling his feet off the ground, mug clutched in his hands like it was holding him together and even letting go for a second might have him breaking down. He was trying not to cry.

“At the time, she was all I had, everyone else was...fake. They gave up on me and thought I had issues.”

“That was the only person you trusted, your whole life?” Kon asked, “I get you hate your parents, they treated you badly.”

“I don’t hate them, they don’t treat me badly as they don’t show up enough. They apologized when I told them why I was keeping the cup.”

Tim took another gulp of lovely soup.

“I had my heroes too, people I thought would care because isn’t that what they do, why they fight? I was wrong about them too, so wrong,” Tim paused, swallowing the ache down, “For a while it didn’t matter, I still wanted to be like them and even if they didn’t accept me, helping people was all that mattered, I still have some of the stuff they gave me when I helped. I could bear with it. I tried...”

Tim could say nothing else. Not when the full impact of that night, death looming close, painpainpain everywhere, outside and inside rendered him breathless. He was crying. Kon pulled him close setting the mug away. Thin frail hands grasped Kon’s arms tightly for dear life, the boy burying his head in the crook of his arm as tears fell on his lap. He held Tim until the silent sobs subsided.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here,” Kon said quietly into Tim’s hair, “I was in the same boat for a while, I was a little shit then, cocky and a realy brat, but I got lucky when the guys found me.”

Tim let out a shaky chuckle, he moved to sit back out of Kon’s arms, but the half-kryptonian’s grip was strong.

“Nuh-uh, not going anywhere yet.”

“But-”

“Nope, let me at least do this for you, man, let me be your hero for now..”

Tim, unable to protest, let the other boy continue to hug him close, strong hands rubbing soothing lines along his arm. Tim’s head nestled under Kon’s chin. The intense fondness grew and he was sure, for a moment that Kon felt it too. Usually by now, he’d attempt to push that down, avoid letting himself or Kon think there could be anything more. But he was trapped, happily and he couldn’t bring himself to move until the others finally returned.

“Happy Birthday Tim.” 

********************************************************************************8

“You should stop it, Drake.”

Tim turned to see Damian, standing a distance away from the bench where he was. It was more a demand than a suggestion from the way he had worded it, his tone displease but without context, it made Tim frown in response, baffled. They hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Stop what?”

“I may not be interested in the idea but I’m no fool, I know your interest in the half-kryptonian and it is misplaced.”

Tim’s hands curled up, not true, not true at all, it can’t be. He looked back over to where the group were hanging out, busy playing on the machines. Kon had gone further ahead to get some snacks he said Tim had to try. If he’s distracted enough, Tim hoped, he wouldn’t hear them talking about him, “I’m not interested, Damian, we’re friends.”

“Do you really think lying to yourself will help? You can say it a thousand times but I know your types and you’re the kind to latch on to someone if they give you even a moment of their time.”

Times like these are when Tim is reminded of how much and why he hated Damian so much, the words were jarring, but they also touched part of the truth, the part which he never wanted to come to light and this little brat was about to throw it out to air.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make assumptions, just because we’re close doesn’t mean it’s going into that territory. I know for a fact that Cassie wants to be with Kon, I’m not looking to go there, I’m sure he isn’t as well, so can you not?”

“So you are aware.”

“Aware of what?”

Damian already furrowed brow deepened, he’s going to earn himself his father’s wrinkles very soon, “You know you can feel that way for him, not only that, but that Cassie isinterested in him as well.”

“What are you-?”

Damian simply crossed his arms, his expression dark and unpleasant, a look that aged him far beyond his years, it was usually reserved for people he hated, “I’m starting to get the feeling you’re attempting to worm your way into the group.”

“The hell? What makes you think I’m some parasite?”

Damian turned away for a moment, making that irritating sound, the click of the tongue sharp and crisp, “Disgraceful really, I thought such behavior would be more suited to harlots but to think, not only have you set your sights on Superboy but with full knowledge of Wondergirl’s involvement.”

Tim’s patience, thread thin, snapped,“Dear god, shut up. Do you hear yourself, sometimes? You’re just like Bruce, you put all the pieces together and think you have the full goddamn picture but you, you’re worse than him at that point. You get yourself riled up over this and then take it out on me, that’s how you’ve always been! How dare you, after all this crap, can’t you just let me have a friend?”

“You know better than anyone, he’s more than a friend to you!”

This wasn’t good, it was turning into a shouting match and people around them were starting to stare. Tim glanced around nervously before closing his eyes, and lowering his head, breathe, in and out.

“I thought we were getting somewhere, Damian, but I guess nothing changes. You’re always going to hate me and all you are good at doing is pointing your damn finger at me. I can’t keep doing this.”

Damian suddenly dropped the rage filled glare completely, only to be replaced by shock, then uneasiness tinted with what seemed like regret, he spluttered under his breath, struggling for words, “Drake, I-”

Like a miracle, Kon drifted in from the sky, and Tim couldn’t help but feel relieved and happy to see his refreshing smile. In each hand he held a sizeable parcel, pressumably, the ‘snacks’.

“Look who’s back with the season’s finest.”

“It looks like you brought back a monster of a meal, not a snack,” Tim joked, as one of the parcels was handed to him.

“Hey, it’s America, and you eat like a bird, you know that? This’ll put some meat on those bones.”

“Ha ha,” Tim mocked laughed as he unwrapped the mountain of fries, meat and cheese sprinkled with spices and what he suspiciously guessed was too much hot sauce, he might die from this one, “Crap this is too much, either you or Gar will have to finish it for me.”

“Aw, nuh-uh, we don’t go until you get that whole thing in you.”

Kon sent one cheese loaded fry, hovering right at Tim’s face. The only thing he could do to avoid getting cheese and grease all over was to open his mouth and accept his fate, but right now, this was good. And he didn’t have to keep thinking about what Damian said. Just out of curiousity Tim glanced over to where the boy should have been but by then, he had already vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks for reading, it's slow coming but I've got a lot of work in progress. I'll work hard to get more chapters out sooner. But please let me know how it is, I don't have a beta reader so I will make a lot of mistakes and some lines can do with a makeover. Thanks again


	6. Tractatum Obscura

The Montezzone family were as close as volatile inmates stuck in a one room prison given that they were all made up of bastards, mistresses and in-laws, each ‘family member’ had it out for the others, hell, even the women, no especially the women couldn’t be trusted. Paulo also wanted to be in charge, the head of the family. There’s no glory in being the dog for the head and he didn’t care for the useless, irresponsible imbecile that was his cousin, Jerry, who was probably the product of incest, his mother and Uncle Jon’s runt no less it would explain the poor bastards odd behaviour and lack of tact. Paulo on the other hand, has always had to be smart, he deserves to be at the top. Now they were at that point, where things were breaking apart at the seams, he’ll tear it apart, then put it back together the way he wants it.  
He needed to weed them out, tear them down, get rid of them if required and he had some material to work with. He was almost certain his brother’s wife was cheating on him and manipulating him into starting a fraternal war and his cousin had was responsible for the murder of his pervert of an uncle, Joe.  
He had a plan, to take over and take out the most problematic, but a Montezzone guards their secrets more zealously than a lion that guards his food. He had only his best friend, Sam but even his spying skills couldn’t apparently, get past their tight defences. So he didn’t even have step one down.  
Paulo scanned through the emails but got nothing, only the best for the family, he needed to hire someone even better to hack into their accounts but that was expensive, and he couldn’t afford it. Paulo gave tired grunt, rubbing at his eyes in frustration, even with all that time spent learning how to get past firewalls he couldn’t get past pros, which reminded him how there were many people better and richer than him. He wants to give up, they’ll get him eventually if he can’t get what he needs,  
Just then an email comes in, one from one of his estranged cousins apparently, he pears at the address.

“Wait, Ben?” He was almost sure Ben was one of his dead cousins, family news travels like wildfire especially when someone dies, sometimes it results in a funeral, more often than not, it’s a cause for celebration. Ben was one of the unlucky ones, caught in a crossfire, disappeared after taking a bad hit. No support, no money, he had nothing when he vanished so naturally everyone considered him dead.   
Paulo clicked on the email, hoping to whatever god there was it wasn’t some prank or so help him, but it popped up innocently enough, no malware or virus attached. Just one hell of a cryptic message.

“Hey Paulo, remember me Ben? Yeah, I haven’t kicked the can yet. I’d call it a miracle and it kind if is but I got someone helping me out. Someone who knows a lot of stuff, stuff you might be interested in. I know you’re busy with the family business, you’ve always dreamed of taking over and clearing out all the crap. This isn’t a deal you wanna miss.

Ben.”

Underneath was an address, but that was all. He sat back in his chair. He hasn’t seen Ben for years, he doesn’t know what the bastard’s been doing if he is still alive. He checks the date. Literally sent today. There was very little information in the mail itself, just the address, no name, not even an alias. He’s very aware of the possibility of traps, this could be a dummy email sent by someone else, he wasn’t sure. The only way he’d find out was to actually go look.

Paulo gets a taxi up to the address on the email.

“The hell?” he said as he took a good look at the crumbling manor. It didn’t even look habitable, more like a health hazard, maybe it is a trap in the end. A good place to go boom inside of. Paulo had just turned around when he felt a sudden chill, like cold finger brush over his back and shoulders. He turned back but saw no one. Just the wind howling through the dead trees in the yard. It felt like someone was watching him.  
As ridiculous as it sounded, Paulo felt a compulsion to go in, see if whatever Ben mentioned was worth coming here for, after all, he’d just gotten a taxi here. He stood outside the gate, which looked like it hadn’t been touched for a good long time. He pushed at it a little and it gave, creaking open loudly enough to ring in his ears.

“Christ,” he said. This place was creepy as hell.

He walked along the broken path towards the sad looking manor. Drake residence the plaque said. The Drakes who had apparently died out from what Paulo could remember on the news, their kid who’d just vanished into thin air. Bad things happen to kids all the time, he thought as he nudged open the door.  
Inside the dusty hallways, the wind was louder, whistling through the crack and crevices.

“Hello?”

He felt stupid for calling out, wondering if whoever Ben was talking about was a squatter, a street rat taking up residence in the abandoned home. But there was no reply. At least not immediately.

“Paulo,” a voice whispered which Paulo was sure was coming from the left, but when he looked, there was no one.

“Okay, whoever is skulking around here, cut it out or I call my boys.”

“You can’t call anyone,” the voice whispered, clearer and louder now. He shouldn’t panic but this felt all wrong, like he had just walked into a bad place so Paulo turned and tried to leave, except, now the door was bolted shut. There was no lock on it before, right.

“You can’t leave, not until I say so.”

He shivered, breath misting, “Where the hell are you, stop hiding!”

“Who’s hiding?” a voice said, suddenly clear and crisp, and coming from the room next to Paulo. He took a step forward to see a boy, lanky and pale in the room, his eyes would be looking at him if they weren’t covered by a piece of metal like a mask. Not to mention the weird garments he was wearing, victorian-style or something, a deep red color to contrast with the black boots that reached up past his knees. Freaking creepy.

“Who the hell are you?”

The boy cocked his head, “That’s none of your business, what are you doing here?”

“Looking for my cousin or whoever my cousin was babbling about,” Paulo said but the kid didn’t seem to find it enough of an explanation, “Look, my cousin, Ben, he said there was someone here I could talk to, someone with a lot of info or something that I can make a deal with. I dunno, all I got was an address.”

The kid smiled but it wasn’t the friendly kind, “A deal? Are you certain you know what you are getting yourself into?”

“I don’t have a lot of options, kid, and I’m kinda freezing my balls off here, so I don’t want to stick around for any longer if I don’t get what I came here for.”

He glanced around to check for any signs of a prank and back only to find the kid was gone. He called out once, twice a bit of panic setting in.

“Paulo Montezzone,” he spins around and sees the kid on the stairs, “You’ve come a long way to ruin your own family, your brothers are your rivals, you sisters are your enemies. You want to win the game, take over your family’s name.”

Paulo couldn’t speak, whatever words he had got stuck halfway up as he watched the kid, his arms and limb inhumanly long move with grace. This wasn’t real, it had to be some nightmare or dream. This was crazy.

“Is this what you wish for?”

The question hung in the air like icicles, the shiver that ran up his spine froze him to the spot. But the boy waited patiently. Waiting for an answer.

“Yes.”

“And you are certain no matter what, you want this done?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

The boy brushes the barrier ever so lightly with his finger tips, “Knowledge is dangerous as it is powerful, many rise and fall with it,” the air doesn’t mist around him when he speaks, not even in this damn cold, “I can give you what you seek so desperately. But there will be a price, and the consequences will be yours to shoulder. Do you accept?” 

“I accept.”

The boy shimmers out of site, reappearing right in front of Paulo, pale hands reaching forward and hovering just over his skin. Even though he wasn’t touching his face, he could feel the ice cold of his hands like they had made contact. It was almost enough to make Paulo recoil. The vapours coming from the heat of his breath more apparent now in the close proximity of this inhuman figure. He realizes, his arms, fingers, they were long and bony, like they had been stretched, his legs similar in fashion, a skeleton with the face of a cherub.

“Knowledge is power. Power is eternal, let the us take as it is given, unto ruin. Unto ash.”

Those fingers, clawed make contact and Paulo cries out in pain as visions flood his painfully fragile mind, he sees his rise, brief glimpses of what he could never dream of and the sudden realization of power within his grasp, he needs only act on it. 

“Bring back the eyes of your defeated, Paulo, and seal this contract in blood. This will be your payment.” 

Then the boy fades out of view and the temperature normalizes again, he can still feel the bone chill of the beautiful wraith as Paulo gets up from the floor. He grins. He’s got work to do.


End file.
